I can do it better than you
by Spyder1070
Summary: I've decided to add a few miscellaneous G-bites that I've written, here. Given that to me when you put all my stories together, it almost sounds like one large day to day story. I couldn't see any reason not to. Enjoy.
1. Chapter 1

Murdoc and 2-D are sitting on the balcony, quietly watching the sunset, after another long hard day. The two men, each laid out on a deck chair. Murdoc soaks in the atmosphere, content at the quiet sounds of the afternoon. He slides himself a little way down the deck chair and closes his eyes. 2-D looks over at the old man and mimics him a moment.

"I'm gettin' firsty Muds. Wanna drink?" the young man asks, his voice breaking the quiet of the afternoon. Murdoc grimaces clenching his teeth, snapping his eyes open and turning them in the direction of the keyboardist, annoyed at the sound of his voice, but settles quickly in favour of a drink.

"Yeahhh." Murdoc drawls, a smile creeping up the corners of his mouth. He closes his eyes and imagines a glass of golden liquid, settled neatly in his hand. A warm sensation, growing up the length of his body, stopping at his stomach. He licks his lips and sighs. "Gemme summink with alcohol in it." the bassist continues, clasping his hands behind his head and leaning even further back in the chair. "An' make it snappy!" he adds sharply. He leans forwards a moment and shoots the young man an evil look, for emphasis, then closes his eyes and settles back again.

2-D startles a moment, like a deer at the sound of a gunshot. Then gets up and moving steadily past the old man, who is now humming quietly to himself, and steps into the kitchen. A moment later, Muds quiet mood, is disturbed by the sounds of 2-D jostling things about, opening cupboard doors and the clinking sounds of glasses. Muds rolls his eyes and tries to settle back again, but is shocked again, by the sound of a cupboard door being slammed. The bassist sits up and raises his shoulders to his ears, dropping his chin and grinding his teeth. His talons, gripping the sides of the chair tightly. 'Why does everythin' have to be so hard....?' he murmurs and digs in his nails.

2-D returns a moment later, a bottle of Scotch under one arm and holding two glasses in his hands. One of the glasses is filled with lemon squash. Murdoc eyes it suspiciously, then looks the young man up and down incredulously. 2-D sits the glasses down on the table and opens the Scotch. Murdoc points to the suspicious glass, with a long talon and half laughing remarks.

"What the fuck is that?" 2-D looks round to him and hands him his Scotch. Muds takes it, trying hard not to burst out laughing. He knows what it is, but just has to hear 2-D say it. Somehow, he feels, it's so much funnier. 2-D stand up straight and rolls his shoulders. He knows that no matter what he does, Muds will always find a way of needling him. It seemed a fact of life, since the two first met. He just wishes, there could be one day, just one, that Muds and he could be together and he doesn't end up looking dumb. 2-D slowly takes the drink in his hand and moves over to his chair.

"Lemonade." he answers quietly. "Why?" he sits down and gets comfortable. Trying not to look at the grinning old man next to him. For a moment a look of indignation crosses Muds face, then suddenly he bursts out laughing, unable to stop himself anymore. He holds his stomach with his free hand and flops back in the chair, the Scotch in his glass, spilling a little over the sides onto the floor. Muds quickly puts his hand over the rim to stop himself loosing any more of his drink. His laugh breaking down to a strange nasally snicker. 2-D drops his glass to his lap, bowing his head and studying the rim of the glass. He goes to say something, annoyed at Murdoc for laughing at him like that, but decides to remain silent a moment and give Muds a chance to calm down.

"I hope none of that's meant for me. Otherwise, I'd haffta consider gettin' you committed!" Murdoc finally manages to get out, half snarling, half giggling. 2-D takes a small cleansing breath, looking up at the old man finally.

"No. It's for me. I wanted a lemonade. Wots wrong wif that and whys it so funny?" he replies, with a hint of sadness in his voice. He looks back down to the bubbles rising slowly in his drink, the fading orange light shining off them and is lost for a moment in how pretty they look.

"Nuthin', nuthin'." Murdoc, responds, his raspy voice snapping 2-D back from his thoughts. "Just thought you'd want a mans drink, thats all. Buuut, if ya wanna be a child...." Murdoc continues, placing his glass to his lips to take a sip. 2-D snaps his head round and narrows his black hole eyes.

"I'm not a child!!" 2-D snaps. Murdoc is shocked a little and nearly spills his drink. "I drink too!" the young man squeaks, realizing he may of just made Murdoc mad. But the bassist just smiles and eyes him carefully a moment, running his long tongue over his shark like teeth and smacking his lips together. He lowers his eyes, his fringe nearly masking the glassy look they have now, thinking deviously.

"Uh huh. Not as much as me though." the old man replies, his voice low and mocking. Then he downs the Scotch in one gulp. Giving a satisfied sigh, he tilts his head towards the youth and smiles evilly at him from one side of his mouth, eyes narrowed, almost as if daring the young man to prove him wrong. He reaches for the bottle and pours himself another drink, looking quickly with his eyes in the young mans direction, waiting for any sign, that the young man will pick up his challenge. 2-D robotically tips the lemonade out onto the floor and holds out his glass. Murdoc pleased, pours him a drink, happy that the young man has handed him a reason to torment him further. They both swig back their drinks together and giving each other a finishing sneer, get ready for another.

An hour and three large, empty bottles later. A very drunk 2-D and Murdoc, are sitting on the balcony, awkwardly trying to sit upright and look sober at the same time. Muds, defiant as ever, grabs at the bottle directly in front of him. After a few unsuccessful swipes, finally manages to catch it and pours the last few trickles into his glass.

"Awww. All gone. Hm, hm, hm." he hiccups sadly, adding a sighing chuckle to the end. Then tosses the empty bottle over the railing. 2-D slack jawed, watches the bottles flight path, then slowly and a bit wobbly, looks at Muds.

"All gone!" he repeats brightly, nearly falling out of his seat. Muds nods and throws the last of the Scotch down his throat and then tosses the glass over the railing as well. 2-D watches the glass, squinting.

"So's that! Ah haw, haw." Muds adds and belches loudly. 2-D giggles and tries to point without falling over.

"W,W,Why's you s'row da glash over." 2-D slurs, blinking hard. He leans forwards and slumps in his chair, the energy to stay upright, almost gone. Muds blinks back at him, his odd eyes nearly crossing for a moment.

"No washing's up!" he says brightly and grins. "Heh, heh. You're drunk." he adds chuckling and turning in his chair to point at the youth. 2-D looks up to say something, opening his mouth. But the thought momentarily slips from his mind. He pauses and tilts his head to think, a little confused. Closing his mouth, he leans back a little, swaying unsteadily on the chair. The thought returns and 2-D turns on the chair to face the bassist, who seems a little lost himself, but looses his balance and falls to one knee before the old man. Reaching out his hands for something to support him, he grabs Muds hands. Murdoc freezes in shock, by the sudden event and at that precise moment, Russel steps out onto the balcony. All three men stare at one another. Russel turns instantly on his heel and walks straight back into the kitchen.

"Well that was unexpected." the large man mutters, opening the proceeding door and walking out into the corridor. "Guess I don't haffta ask, who gets to wear the weddin' dress den." he adds with a chuckle.


	2. Chapter 2

Murdoc and 2D are standing on the balcony, leaning against the railing and looking out over the landfill site. The bassist is drinking Rum from the bottle, and 2D is nursing a glass of Scotch. 2D swirls the golden liquid round in the glass and slightly zones out, as he watches the way the sunlight reflects off the edge of the glass. Murdoc, who is in a surprisingly good mood, fumbles round in his pocket and pulls out a packet of cigarettes. Taking one from the packet, he places it between his lips and feels round in his back pocket for his lighter. 2D tilts his glass back and forth, making little golden waves in the Scotch, smiling at the way the light reflects off them and makes the edges of the glass almost look like it's on fire.

"Oi D!" says Murdoc, still patting himself down. "Got a light? Mine appears to have gone wah, walkies." he adds, finally giving up his search. 2D snaps out of his daze and puts his hand down to the lighter in his pocket.

"Yeah sure Muds. 'Ere ya go." he says brightly, handing it to the old man. Murdoc grunts and lights up the cigarette. "Say Muds. 'Ave ya ever wondered wot it wood be like to own a pub?" 2D asks, as Muds hands back the lighter.

"Ahhhh? No. Not really... But now err, you mention it...that..! Would be very convenient. Heh, heh." the bassist replies with a chuckle, holding up the bottle of Rum and winking at 2D. The young man looks down at his Scotch and considers the thought for a moment.

"Yeah it wood. Bu' ya wouldn't do it every day. I mean, you'd end up drinkin' all ya profit hey?" he says, looking at the side of the bassists face. Murdoc takes a large swig from the bottle and gulps loudly, then pulls his lips back over his teeth, sucking the air sharply. He smiles to himself, thinking.

"Maybe?" he answers finally, "But what a closin' down party that would be. Heh, heh, heh." he adds, joking around and not really taking the conversation at all seriously. 2D shakes his head slowly, although he's pleased the old man seems to be in a good mood, he knows he's not really listening. Determined to engage him in his thought, he presses the old man further.

"But no...I mean really, like don' pubs sell for millions or sumfink?" he asks, trying to get Murdoc interested. The bassist finishes the bottle and tosses it over the railing, still not really listening to what the keyboardist beside him was saying. 2D watches it flip end over end, waiting for an answer to his question. Not getting one, he turns to see that Murdoc is not standing next to him anymore, but instead, has settled in one of the deck chairs. 2D sighs and walks over to join him. Murdoc looks up at the approaching youth and suddenly remembers what happened the last time they were sat here drinking. He shudders a little and looks away, but 2D doesn't seem to of noticed.

"Well?" 2D says, looking over at the old man as he sits down. Murdoc looks at him and creases his forehead, pausing in mid-thought.

"Huh? Wha?" he replies, shaking his head and crossing his ankles, trying not to look perturbed by the memory still floating around in his mind. Feeling a little more comfortable, he turns his attention to brushing some invisible dirt from his thigh. He's just a little too distracted to really take in the question 2D had asked. His brain keeps throwing random images at him, some of which, although pleasing, are disturbing his line of thought. He pauses the moment in his mind and breathes slowly, drawing on the cigarette and hoping to push the whole scene comfortably out of his mind and over the railing, just like the Rum bottle. He smiles as the memory seems to slowly fade, and continues to brush off his knee.

"Millions? Don' they sell for millions?" 2D says, repeating his question with just a hint of annoyance in his voice. The old man looks up at the youth, almost startled by the sound of his voice. Not wanting to really talk to him, but not wanting to look dimwitted in front of him either. He gives in and traces back the half heard conversation, trying to work out what the boy was talking about. His forehead creases again as slowly his mind begins to pick up the thread.

"Oh, right....Ahh yeah, yeah. Buuut, ya gotta have millions to buy 'em in the first place. Plus all the connections, lawyers, legalities, licenses, blah, blah, blah." Murdoc replies, placing one hand behind his head and waving the question off with the other. Then interlacing his fingers behind his head, he settles down deeper into the deckchair, with a long comfortable sigh. 2D looks back down at his drink, considering what the old man had just said. He tilts the glass back and forth, then throws the last of the liquid down his throat and places the empty glass on the table. Pulling his cigarettes out of his pocket, he continues thinking about what Murdoc said, while trying to understand why people would go through it all then, _'I mean if it's that hard.'_ he thinks, sliding a cigarette out of the packet, _'Maybe thats why they tend tah stay in families and that?'_ he lights up the cigarette, drawing back on it slowly, before blowing a long line of smoke rings, and watching them rise up towards the umbrella, before being blown apart by a slight breeze. _'We've got the money... I fink? So all the other stuff wouldn't be that much of a problem really? Would it?'_ He adds and tucks an arm behind his head, leaning back in the chair and drawing his knee up. He rests his free hand against it and flicks at the butt of the cigarette with his thumbnail. The clouds float by, their edges tinged red and orange by the sunset, 2D watches them change and smiles to himself. Finally thinking that he'd reached a conclusion, he turns his attention back to the old man.

"Would ya like to own one with me though? I mean if I bought one?" he says finally, continuing the conversation with Murdoc. The bassist lets out a loud snore, startling the keyboardist a little, and making him turn his head to look at the now sleeping bassist. "Oh! You've dropped off." the young man sits up and watches Murdoc's face crease as if he's dreaming about something. "Muds?" he turns in his chair, to face the bassist, putting both feet on the floor and leaning over to him. But the old man sleeps on, so 2D leans over further and taps the old man on the arm gently.

"Muds?!" 2D repeats, a little louder, sliding off the chair and kneeling beside the sleeping bassist. He rocks Murdoc a little, hoping this will wake him. The old man finally snorts and slowly opens his eyes.

"Wha?" Murdoc says, yawning sleepily and rubbing one eye with the heel of his palm.

"Wood ya do it wif me?" says 2D, with his hand on Murdocs arm. The bassist snaps his eyes wide open and leaps off the deckchair, putting it between him and the youth.

"How many times have I gotta say it?! I'm not gay! Got it?!" he snaps and storms off towards the kitchen. 2D blinks at him astonished, and watches as the old man grabs the door handle, yanking open the door and slamming it aside angrily.

"Wha' did I say?" he squeaks, confused by the bassist's reaction. "How does ownin' a pub make ya gay then Muds?" he adds, scratching his head and sliding back up onto the deckchair.

"Leave me alone!" screeches Murdoc, as he slams his way through the kitchen, heading for the safety of his Winnie.

"I don' understand?" the keyboardist mutters to himself, looking about himself as he tries to work out what had made the old man react that way, to a simple question.

Russel is sitting at the kitchen table, eating a large sandwich. He chuckles to himself and continues munching. _'Heh, heh. Guess dah honeymoons ova den?'_ he thinks as he swallows and picks up his drink.

"Here's tah young love. Such a beautiful thang t'watch." he says, toasting the empty room. "Well sometimes anyway." he adds and bursts out laughing, before returning to his sandwich.


	3. Don't speak ill of the dead

**Don't Speak ill Of the Dead.**

Murdoc is quietly relaxing on one of the balcony deck chairs, smoking a cigarette, and occasionally passing a glance over the landfill site. It's been a rather long and tedious day, and the bassist has barely moved. Aside from dragging himself from the Winnie, to the kitchen balcony, and maybe, occasionally, the back end. The inactivity has affected all of the band members to some degree, and Murdoc seems to of developed a rather obvious tic in his left eye. Possibly put there by a very bored 2D, who seems to insist on continuing to explain the complexities of this crack he's been watching, creeping across the ceiling in his bedroom. Murdoc had decided to escape him, by going for a drive at one point. But once he'd got ready and had sat in the drivers seat, he'd changed his mind and decided to solve the problem instead, by going into 2D's room, and punching him in the back of the head. That did actually solve the problem for a while, and Murdoc's facial tic had begun to calm down again. But nothing ever seems to last in Kong, and the mood had slowly drifted back down to a flat-line, meaning that 2D was bound to seek the bassist out again. Murdoc could almost feel it, like a cold clammy hand on the back of his neck. He shudders a little and sighs.

"Humpf! I'm bored. That must mean Faceache is close." he snorts gruffly at the burning end of his cigarette, almost as if expecting a response from it. He watches the smoke trailing up from the end, and takes a long drag, blowing a couple of smoke rings and sighing heavily. He inspects the burning end of the cigarette again and slumps defeated in the chair. "Well, I guess I should occupy myself till then. Hmmm? I wonder how many dead shopping trolleys there are?" he mumbles, scratching at the stubble on his chin.

He swings his legs round, and stamps his heavily booted feet beside the deckchair with a resounding thump, pulling himself up to a standing position. Stretching his back and cracking his spine, he walks to the railing and leans against it, putting all his weight on one hip, and crossing his ankles. Taking a deep drag from the cigarette, he tilts his head back and cracks his neck, blowing the smoke out while trying to relax. He begins to feel a warm sense of calm gently wash over him, and smiles, flicking the fag end over the railing. The old man looks blankly ahead, clearing his mind and calming his thoughts. Blinking hard for a moment to clear his vision, Murdoc quietly starts the mental count.

A few moments later 2D walks into the kitchen, and carefully looks out the window. Seeing Muds, he unconsciously reaches up to rub the back of his head, where Murdoc had punched him, and wonders if maybe it would be better to go back to napping in the cupboard. Just then Noodle walks in, and smiles at the young man.

"Oh. Hello 2D!" she says brightly, walking past him to the sink for a glass of water. 2D looks first at Noodle, giving her a bright smile, then turns once again to look at the bassist outside. On hearing the young man's name, Murdoc is now slowly turning his head round on his shoulders, to face the young man inside. 2D watches him, slowly tipping his head to his shoulder at the steady movement of the old man's head. It begins to look like the bassist has developed the ability, to turn it a full 360 degrees, and 2D instantly envisions the scene from "The Exorcist." He grimaces at the sight, pressing his knuckles to his mouth, and wonders if perhaps he should go get a bucket, before the dreaded green pea soup scene in re-enacted. Right out there on Kong's balcony. The evil grin spreading slowly across the old man's face, as 2D comes into view, isn't helping the young man either. He shudders as a cold chill races up his spine, and causes a small moment of panic, to settle itself in his small intestine. The young man swallows hard and makes his way out onto the balcony, to stand beside the old, quite probably possessed man.

"Mornin' Muds." 2D announces as brightly as he dares, trying to lift the dark heavy mood, that has now surrounded him like an evil fog. The bassist has stopped looking at him now, and instead seems determined to stare blankly ahead.

"Eh!" he grunts with a shrug, and goes back to counting. 2D stares momentarily at the side of the old man's face, then out at the landfill and back again, as he tries to work out what Murdoc is looking at. Not able to figure it out, he scratches nervously at his side and decides to ask.

"Whacha doin' Muds?" continuing to look out and over the horizon. He believes it must be interesting, as he's been standing here a full ten minutes at least, and besides making him nervous, Murdoc hasn't actually done anything of significance to him, yet.

"Ahhh? Plottin' yer, ehh, murder actually. If you must know." retorts the old man bluntly, and in such a deliberate 'matter-of-a-fact' tone, that it makes 2D's stomach tighten sharply for a moment. The young man looks nervously from his feet, to the side of Muds face, shifting the weight from one foot to the other. Murdoc senses the change in mood and smiles secretly, letting out a long sigh, before turning his body to face the young man. "Countin' the dead. Pfft! Can't yooou take a joke. Bah!" he waves the young man off and turns back to the landfill, deciding to just carry on with the task and ignore the keyboardist. 2D looks quickly at the site, and quietly relieved that the bassist wasn't really going to have him killed, realizes what Murdoc meant by 'counting the dead' and smiles.

"Ohhhh, the trolleys ya mean? I've done that. There's fifty two.... If ya don't count the ones that move." he announces to the old man brightly, finishing with a beaming smile. He holds on to the railing tightly and leans his weight back on his heels for a moment. The bassist instantly stops counting, as 2D's last remark causes the old man's mind to grow steadily blank. His eyes grow wide with a visual _'Huh?'_ and he sharply turns to face the keyboardist, trying to work out exactly, _'What the Hell, that was suppose to mean?'_ Quickly looking the young man up and down incredulously, which in turn causes 2D's confidence level to drop rapidly again, he watches him squirm for a moment and smacks his lips.

"What drugs are you on? Dead shopping trolleys, don't move! For one, they're dead! And secondly, now pay attention to this, it's really important. Eh, they're shopping trolleys you Dolt!!" he screeches into the young man's face. 2D pulls his arms up over his head, cowering under them to protect himself, as Muds pulls his fist back as if about to punch him. Lucky for the keyboardist, Murdoc is feeling far too bored and lazy, to even muster the strength to do this, and instead returns his hand to the railing. 2D peeks out from between his arms and sees the bassist has returned to the count, so he lowers his hands and looks hard at the old man. Pulling himself up to full height, and full of determination to be heard, he points out at the landfill.

"But they do!" he protests, too dimwitted to realize what a lucky escape he's already had. "They must do? Coz one day they're there, then the next day, they've gone." he continues, trying to make the old man believe him. Murdoc turns to face the young man again, lowering his shoulders and jutting out his chin, as his rage and level of annoyance slowly begins to build. Staring hard at the younger man, with his glimmering eyes only just visible from under his fringe, he watches as 2D continues to jab furiously out over the railing towards the land fill.

"Why are you trying to mess with my brain?" he hisses, the frustration in his voice bubbling like a volcano about to erupt. "Why? Ack! Pfft! Ahh fergit it. No sense even trying to beat this dead monkey." he adds even more frustrated than before. Waving the young man off and returning to leaning on the railing, he tries once again to ignore the keyboardist, determined not to let him get under his skin. But 2D is still prickling with determination, and sucks up as much courage as he can. Once again jabbing his finger at the landfill, he turns to the old man.

"But they dooooo! They disappear!" he cries excitedly, bouncing almost like an excited child, who has just seen their first elephant. "I wonder why they do that?" he suddenly adds, as his mind comes to the sudden conclusion that it is an odd thing for them to do. He mumbles to himself as he tries to work it out, pointing at the landfill and scratching his head, completely forgetting that he'd just been standing there, winding up a very angry, possibly possessed, bassist. Murdoc's body shakes with fury, and he turns on the young man, his left eye once again twitching furiously.

"COZ THEY'RE HAUNTED!!!!" he bellows like an enraged, rabid bull. 2D leaps away in shock, dropping like a stone to the balcony floor, and clinging desperately to the railing, as if he feared falling any further. "And now ehhh, that I've told you their dirty little secret. Heh, heh. They're going to come after you. I, I eh, I know about these things." the old man continues, almost at a whisper, and in such a calm tone of voice, that it raises the hair on the back of 2D's neck. The bassist folds his arms confidently, and sneers down at the cowering keyboardist. Watching as the shivering young man slowly turns and peers out at the landfill, from behind the railing.

"They are?" he squeaks, too scared to move for a moment, he freezes like a statue in the hope they won't see him. But suddenly overcome with fear that the old man is right, he scrambles to his feet and races from the balcony, searching for a place to hide. Murdoc follows the young man's exit with his eyes, till he disappears through the kitchen into the corridor. Shaking his head and crinkling his nose with disgust at the young man, he unfolds his arms and searches his pocket for his cigarettes and lighter. Repositioning himself on the railing again, he lights his cigarette and blows out the smoke with a deep sigh, staring quietly at the burning end, and hoping that will be the last he sees of 2D for a while. He chuckles to himself, at the image of 2D's face, when he told him the trolleys were haunted, shaking his head. Then looking back up at the land fill, he starts slowly counting again, pointing each cart out with the cigarette resting between his yellow stained fingers.

"I swear he's gettin' dumber and dumber?" the old man mutters to himself with a smile.


	4. The Photo Shoot

**The Photo Shoot.**

Murdoc has organised for a series of test shots to be taken, for the cover of the Demon Days album. He's woke early and for the sixth time, at breakfast, explained to a rather confused 2D, that it's only a test to work out the best positions, and not to bother wearing anything too flash. Breakfast over, the band makes it's way down to the set, with Murdoc leading the way.

"Where are we goin again?" 2D asks, scratching his head and yawning. Murdoc slaps his hand to his forehead and drags it slowly down his face. He grits his teeth and turns on the blue haired young man, grabbing him sharply by his shirt and yanking him forwards, their foreheads colliding with a dull thump.

"Look! I've run out of cigarettes. So I haven't had one yet. And YOU! Are gettin' on my nerves. If I have to explain it to you, one more time. Then fine! But understand, that it will be rapidly followed, with me insertin' Russel in yer arsehole. HEAD FIRST! Got it?" the bassist snarls and finally lets him go. Russel looks up, raising an eyebrow.

"'Scuse me? You're goin' tah insert me where?" he furrows his brow angrily at the two men, before taking Noodles tiny hand in his, and walking by them grumbling to himself. 2D steps back from Murdoc, who is still angrily grinding his teeth.

"No, no, no! It's ok." he squeaks, holding his hands out in defence. Murdoc waves him off and follows Russel. Noodle, who is dragging her heels a little, yawns and looks up at the large American.

"Can we ahhh, not do this later?" she asks, rubbing her eyes sleepily. Russel reaches down and picks up the girl, resting her head on his large chest. 2D catches up and walks quickly behind them, passing Murdoc and almost catching up to Russel. Murdoc mumbling inaudibly about not having any cigarettes, swipes angrily at his head, making the young man duck out of the way and leaping almost into Russel's arms. The drummer growls and pushes him back and into Murdoc, who shoves him forwards and ahead of the group. 2D scrambles, almost on all fours, and moves further ahead and away from them. Covering the back of his head.

"Ahh! I'm sorry." he yelps, trying to stay out of reach. He runs into the studio and stops suddenly, dropping his hands to his sides. "Wow." the young man gasps, slowly walking on to the set.

The room is large, and for the most part, dark. Large halogen lights are aimed at scaffolding, that forms a stairway leading up to four windows. The front is white, and each window is bordered in black. Underneath, written in bold letters, are the words "Demon Days." 2D walks around the set slowly, before stopping directly in front of it. He squints towards the camera, but because of the lights, can't really see anything, apart from a bight white blur. He blinks hard and covers his eyes, as the light feels as though it's burrowing into his skull. He shakes his head sharply and walks around the light back into the darkness, blinking hard. Grumbling to himself that he's blind, and now can't see anything through the rainbow colors and tiny flashes of light, now infused in his vision. It clears a little in time for him to see Murdoc approach, and he points up at the set.

"Is that it Muds?" he smiles, still trying to shake his vision clear. Murdoc stops walking and rolls his eyes at the young man's question.

"Nooooo. That's the set for the new Dr Who. What do YOU think?" he snaps sarcastically, folding his arms over his chest, and leaning all his weight on one hip. 2D stops smiling and looks back at the set.

"Yeah? Wow. Do ya think I can get his autograph?" he inquires, looking about for the man. Murdoc finally snaps. His anger boils over like a volcano, and he leaps bodily at the unaware keyboardist. But his attack is rapidly caught short, by Russel's large hand, grabbing the back of his trousers and lifting him from the ground. Murdoc hangs there limply for a brief moment, a little shocked by the sudden stop in momentum. He looks around for a moment, calculating his next move, before struggling and flailing about. Determined not to let Russel stop him, he stretches out his arms, reaching and swiping just inches from 2D's neck. Russel, still holding a sleeping Noodle in his other arm, shakes his head at the flailing old man.

"Let it go Murdoc. It won' make any diff'rence." he sighs, watching Murdoc still fighting to be set free. Murdoc kicks out at the air and takes another swipe at the still unaware 2D, who is still looking for "The Doctor."

"Yes it will. Yes it will. It'll make me feel a whooooole lot better." the bassist drawls. Just then 2D looks back at them both with a smile, finally catching sight of Murdoc reaching for his throat. He stops smiling and winces painfully at the sight of Murdoc's sharp talons, slicing the air just inches from his face. He pulls away from him, not quite sure what he'd done to make the old man angry.

"Wot? Wot did I do?" he whimpers confused. Murdoc stops struggling and rolls his eyes, letting himself finally drop and hang there loosely in Russel's grip, like a rag doll.

"Arrggh! Why me?" he moans, then slowly lifting his head, starts massaging his temples, swearing under his breath. Russel looks down at him and seeing the fight seemed to of left the old man, finally sets him down on his feet again. Murdoc looks back at the large man with an angry sneer, before, shaking his legs and readjusting his trousers as he walks away.

The photographer signals he is ready, and the band members climb the steps at the back of the set. Once in position, Murdoc gives the signal and the photographer starts snapping away. 2D unfortunately, is still distracted by the idea that the Doctor might be around somewhere, and keeps looking everywhere, but where he's suppose to. The photographer tries to explain to him that he needed to pay attention to the directions he was given, but 2D doesn't really seem to be taking it in.

"What if I was to try a stuffed monkey? It works with kids?" the photographer asks Murdoc, who is leaning heavily on the window frame, holding his chin up with one hand and picking at the paintwork with the other.

"Give ME! The monkey. I know what I'd like to do with it." he mutters and looks out the window and down, towards 2D in the window below him. 2D leans his head out and looks straight up into Murdoc's angry face. Seeing the evil glint in the old man's eye, he pulls his head back in slowly. Not really liking the thoughts of what might of prompted it. Murdoc eventually begins screaming at 2D, that _"this guy"_ is costing him a lot of money. And if he doesn't pull himself together, and let them get a few good shots out of it, he's going to come down there and kill him. 2D apologises and sighs, looking down at his feet and ruining another shot. Seeing the flash, he looks back up again quickly.

"Sorry. Sorry. I didn't know...?" he starts to say. Murdoc lets out a screech and stomps on the floor above 2D's head. The young man quickly drops to the floor and yelps. Covering his head with his hands. "Sooorry!" he whimpers, lying curled up in a tiny ball on the floor, trembling.

"I want this done! Stop messin' about!" Murdoc screeches, the veins in his neck popping out as if ready to break through his skin. The camera flashes, dazzling the bassist for a moment. Murdoc turns sharply towards the camera man and snarls at him. "Oi you!" he snaps, points angrily in the photographers direction. The photographer shrugs and gets ready for the next shot. Overwhelmed, 2D sits up and shakily lights his last cigarette. He nervously puffs at it and tries to calm down. Murdoc, still grinding his teeth and balling his hands into tight fists, suddenly stops and sniffs the air. Recognising the smell instantly, he looks out his window and down, seeing a faint trail of smoke waft from 2D's panel.

"Hey? You have cigarettes. Gimme one. NOW!" he demands, leaning out and reaching down towards the top of 2D's window. 2D, who had stood up and was leaning against the sill, sees the old man's hand reaching for him, and pulls away.

"No I can't. It's my last one." he snaps, turning his body to protect his precious cigarette. Murdoc pulls his hand back a little and fumes.

"Well... Gimme that one then!" he snaps back and swipes vainly at the window below him. But this just makes 2D pull further away.

"No." he replies and continues puffing away at it furiously, trying to finish it as quickly as possible. Murdoc pulls himself back into his window and looks around the small box grumbling, trying to work out what to do next. He looks down at the floor and is instantly struck by an idea. He smiles evilly, and begins stomping on the floor again. Eventually, the bassist makes a small hole and drops down to his knees, pulling at the broken board, and trying to make it big enough to shove his arm through. 2D yelps as the board above him disappears and smokes quicker. Murdoc tosses the broken board out of his window, towards the camera. Not really interested in the shoot any more, as getting that cigarette away from 2D, had suddenly become the priority. And Now that he'd made a larger hole, he felt this should happen in no time. He reaches down through the hole to the keyboardist below, and vainly starts swiping around in the hopes of catching him off guard. In the meantime, Russel's anger has been steadily building.

"Will dah both of you cut it out!" he bellows, his nostrils flaring, snorting like an angry bull. The camera man stands quietly by watching the band members antics. Not quite sure if he should be taking photos of this, or not. Noodle seemed to of gotten the right idea, and looks as though she has given up and fallen asleep. 2D finally finishing the cigarette, tosses the butt out the window.

"I've finished it Murdoc. You can stop trying to kill me now." he smiles. But this just makes Murdoc angrier.

"Nooooooo! That just makes me wanna kill you more." he hisses. Suddenly the wall beside Murdoc explodes, showering the old man in plaster and small splinters of wood. A huge hole appears and Russel sticks his head through it growling at the surprised bassist.

"I'm goin'a say it one last time." he growls in a deep calm voice. Murdoc calms himself and raises an unseen eyebrow at the large bald head, that has popped in beside him. "CUT IT OUUUUUUUT!!!" Russel roars suddenly. The wind from his shout bodily hits the bassist, slamming him against the opposite wall of his box, he slides down it and falls in a heap on the floor. Russel looks at the Bassist quietly, puffing and panting angrily. And hoping that finally the old man had got the picture. Murdoc slowly gets to his feet and brushes himself down, stepping back to the window as if he had. He turns his head slightly to look at the furious Drummer, his eyes slit.

"Yer breath don't half smell you know." he replies and turning back to the front, smiles at the camera. Russel rolls his vacant eyes and pulls his head from the hole. Finally, although Noodle is asleep in every shot, they get enough good ones to call it a day. Walking from the set, Murdoc turns to the band and smiles.

"Overall. I think that went rather well." he grins. 2D slowly makes his way past the old man, nursing a brand new black eye.

"Ahhh, yeah? I guess so." he replies and pokes at the growing bruise. Russel, cradling the still sleeping Noodle, stops in his tracks and stares at them both walking away.

"Yo ass gotta be jokin'! Right?" he remarks almost to himself, and shaking his head, follows them off both from the set.

"Now tomorrow will be the real deal. So I hope you both have summink nice to wear. Hopefully little miss Tsunami, will be kind enough to join us by then?" Murdoc snarls, opening the door and making his way through it. 2D follows closely on his heels with a nod.

"Oh yeah, I fought 'bout it for ages. Should be good." he grins. Russel stops dead in his tracks and watches the door slowly closing, stunned by the idea that he'd have to go through this whole thing again.

"Oh man! Why do I jus' know dem two Crackers goin'a make this t'ing an impossible dream?" he laments, bowing his head low and slowly plodding after them.


	5. It's not all that bad

Noodle is fast asleep in her bed, and Russel, 2D and Murdoc, are in the kitchen, with the lights down low, talking in hushed voices. Russel pushes his chair back from the table, and stands, looking over at the other two, with a calm smile.

"So, it's decided den, right?" He remarks, looking from one to the other, and back again. 2D grins and nods, standing himself, and joining the large man, on his side of the table. Both of them turn and look at a silent Murdoc, waiting for his response. The Bassist sits slumped in his chair, legs out straight in front of him, ankles crossed, and arms folded tightly over his chest. His eyes slit, they glimmer brightly in the dim light of the kitchen, as he slowly turns his head to look over at the two men, standing silently before him.

"Now waaaaaait a minute." He drawls, gritting his shark-like teeth and breathing out sharply, making a low hissing sound. "What the fuck, makes you two think...?" He snarls, but is cut off quickly by Russel, who narrows his own vacant eyes and bends over, slapping his hands sharply down on the table in front of him.

"Coz if'n you don', I'll take dat Winnie o' yours, and shove it righ' up yo ass. Ya dig?" The large man snarls back, bringing his face close to the Bassists. The two men stare hard at one another for a moment, breathing hard into each others faces. Each trying to psyche the other into backing down.

"Ow. That don' sound real comfortable." 2D grimaces, reaching back and holding his buttocks protectively. Russel and Murdoc blink at one another, then turn to look over at the young blue haired man. Not quite sure whether to take him seriously or not.

"Oh, you think?!" Murdoc snaps, rolling his eyes sarcastically. The tension broken, all three men leave the kitchen, and return to their respective rooms.

The next morning, Noodle is sharply jolted from her sleep, by a loud banging on her door, and 2D excitedly calling her, to come and see something. She leaps out of bed, and quickly pulls on her dressing gown. Moving quickly to the door, while rubbing the sleep from her eyes, with the heel of her hand. She unlocks the door, and yanks it open. 2D is standing there, bouncing excitedly from one foot to the other, clapping his hands, and pointing down the corridor.

"Come and see Noo. Come and see!" He squeals, grabbing her tiny hand in his, and practically dragging her from her room, and down the corridor. He stops in front of the large rectangular front window, and points out it, to the grave yard below. "Look!" He jabs at the window excitedly, and Noodle looks out to where the Keyboardist, is pointing.

Down in the grave yard, bouncing between the headstones. Noodle can see a tall, skinny, dirty looking, pink rabbit. It stops every now and then, to drop something on the ground. Noodle squints and strains to see, what the rabbit is dropping. Slowly it dawns on her, and she turns and looks up at the young man, beside her.

"2D! It's.... It's.... Oh my. The Easter Bunny!" The two of them giggle happily and bounce around in tiny circles, hugging each other with excitement and joy.

Down in the grave yard. A fuming Bassist, dressed in a tattered and filthy rabbit costume, that is actually two sizes too big for him, reaches up and smacks a floppy oversized ear from in front of his face. He turns around, and looks behind him, searching the empty allotment for a moment.

"No really, why am I doing this crap again?" He snarls. There is silence for a moment, and slowly Russel rises from his hiding place, behind one of the larger headstones, like an evil zombie mountain. He growls at the Bassist menacingly, and grips the edges of the headstone, with his huge meaty hands.

"Coz a Winnie suppository, wouldn' be good fo' yo health." He snarls through clenched teeth, glaring hard at the dirty rabbit. Murdoc clicks his tongue, and considers the thought for a moment.

"And what makes you think....?"He begins, shifting the weight to one hip and once again, smacking a large ear from his face. But he sees the way Russel narrows his vacant eyes and slaps one of his huge fists, into the palm of his other hand, and stops talking.

"Go on man, gimme a reason. I really wancha to." The huge American hisses, grinning at the Bassist like a madman. Murdocs pupils shrink to mere pin points, as it occurs to him, that this time, Russel really meant, exactly what he said. He shrugs and turns around again, making like a bunny and hopping away to another grave stone, dropping off another chocolate egg.

"I was only askin'. Ya fat arsed psycho." He grumbles under his breath, as he hops along. Russel grins at him like a Cheshire cat, and slowly sinks back behind the tombstone, chuckling to himself, as Murdoc continues hopping along.


End file.
